Interested Parties
by Chasmfiend
Summary: When Peter Pettigrew was found and Sirius Black came to trial, there were a number of people with vested interest in the outcome.
1. Amelia Bones

As soon as Amelia Bones entered Courtroom Ten and saw Rita Skeeter sitting as close to the floor as a journalist could get, acid green quill perched on parchment, she knew that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in for rough week. They probably deserved it, considering it was only now, after eight years, that they actually holding a trial for Sirius Black, but Amelia was still the one who would have to deal with any backlash from the trial.

Personally Amelia blamed Crouch. He was the one who pushed to suspend habeas corpus. He was the one who had personally overseen all the sentencing. He was the one who had, seven years ago, assured Amelia that _all_ of the cases had been reviewed and that there was no need to reexamine the guilt of anyone in Azkaban. Then, when it had come out four days ago that Sirius Black was definitely innocent of at least one of the crimes he was 'convicted' of, Crouch had the audacity to suggest that Black be tried by the now defunct Council of Magical Law. It was enough to make Amelia almost wish that she had gone into healing the way her mother had wanted her to.

Speaking of Crouch, he was sitting on the witness stands as well, although he was far in the back, looking for all the world like he wanted to melt into the wall. Amelia couldn't blame him, considering many of the looks Crouch's neighbors were sending his direction.

Amelia took her place on stands, in the front row with the other interrogators. Up above her the last few stragglers where making their way in. "Cutting things a little close, aren't you?" Umbridge said from the other side of Minister Fudge.

"The trial doesn't start for-" Amelia checked her watch "-six minutes, Madam Umbridge. I see no reason to spend more time than necessary waiting here."

"It is rather an inconvenience," Minister Fudge said. Amelia was painfully aware that he was not bothering to keep his voice low. "After all, everyone knows that Black is a Death Eater. Is it really necessary to try him again because one of his intended victims escaped?"

Umbridge nodded, a smile spreading across her face. It was probably supposed to be endearing or something, but Umbridge's face being what it was, she looked rather more like the toad that had caught the fly than the cat that had caught the pixie. "Indeed, Minister, I think this passes over unnecessary and into potentially dangerous." She gave Amelia a poisonous look. "It reflects rather poorly on the Ministry, doesn't it, retrying Black for everything." Umbridge laughed, a fluttery little laugh that set Amelia's teeth on edge. "It makes it seem like we aren't sure we got the right man in the first place."

Amelia allowed herself a couple of seconds to make sure her voice was completely level when she spoke. "In 1975, when Minister Minchum entered office, he passed Ministerial Decree Number Seventy-Three, which suspended habeas corpus for those accused of collision with terrorist forces, specifically the Death Eaters; established the Council of Magical Law to deal with arrests for terrorism charges; and empowered said Council to convict and sentence those accused without a trial, if they deemed it unnecessary. In 1983, after the war was over, Ministerial Decree Number Seventy-Three was revoked."

Minister Fudge blinked at Amelia, the blank look on his face suggesting that he had understood what she said but was still working out where it fit into everything.

Umbridge gave another fake little laugh. Then she assumed a contrite expression that might have been appropriate on a five year-old caught misbehaving. "I'm sorry, Madam Bones, but you made it sound like Black has already been convicted for everything he's being tried for. In which case-"

"Black was never tried," Amelia cut Umbridge off before the woman could go off on laws Amelia had already had quoted to her sixteen times in the past four days. "If he had been tried by the Wizengamot, maybe even by the Council of Magical Law, the DMLE could simply review his case and move on, but since Ministerial Decree Number Seventy-Three was revoked-"

"Hem, hem," Umbridge said, "Whether or not Black was tried, he is still a convicted Death Eater. He does not have the legal right to demand a trial, even if new 'evidence' of his innocence is uncovered. Imagine if any criminal could force the Wizengamot to try them again and again. We'd spend all day talking to people we'd already convicted."

Amelia took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then she said, "You are correct, Madam Umbridge. Sirius Black does not have the right to demand a trial for crimes he has already been convicted of; however, since habeas corpus was reinstated, other people have the right to demand that Sirius Black be brought to court to determine whether or not he is being lawfully detained."

Umbridge made a motion with her hand as though she were preparing to interrupt again.

"It would be polite to let me finish before you make your objections," Amelia said. "Now, if anyone had called for that a week ago it would have been an open and shut case. Black was convicted and sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. Now that Pettigrew has been found alive and well-"

"But this is a criminal trial," Fudge said, seeming to finally work through what Amelia and Umbridge were talking about. "It's not a court review to determine if Black's imprisonment is legal. He's being charged with... all kinds of things."

"Yes, Minister," Amelia said. "In the interests of avoiding a court review that could potentially-"

Several seats to Amelia's left, Albus Dumbledore stood up. Throughout the courtroom, muttered conversations broke off as everyone turned their attention to the Chief Warlock. Dumbledore nodded towards a pair of aurors by the courtroom doors. "Bring in the accused."

Moments later, Sirius Black was escorted through the doors. Behind her, Amelia could hear a number of people mutter about how bad he looked, but Amelia had seen him last night when he had been moved from Azkaban to the Ministry holding cells. His hair was still a matted mess, but he had definitely washed his face in the cell sink and he looked a bit less... dead was the only word Amelia had for it.

Black stared at the chair for quite some time, turning his head as though he expected it to do cartwheels. It was only when the aurors pushed him into the chair that he finally sat down. Black crossed his arms in front of his chest, probably thinking that if he did so the chains on the arms of the chair wouldn't bind him but the other auror forced his arms apart, giving the chains the chance to grab hold of Black's arms and bind them tight to the chair.

The aurors retreated back to the courtroom doors. "Criminal trial for the twelfth of March," Dumbledore said, "the accused here before us, Sirius Orion Black, is charged with the murder of twelve muggles, the attempted murder of Peter Pettigrew, accessory before the fact to the murders of Lily and James Potter, breach of the International Statute of Secrecy, affiliation with the insurgent group known as the Death Eaters, and passing classified Ministry information to the aforementioned insurgent group."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe: Tethys Jasmine Vane. Witness for the Defense: William Arthur Weasley, assisted by Frederick Fabian Weasley and George Gideon Weasley."

There was a great deal of commotion from the Wizengamot, as it became apparent that the Witness for the Defense was a boy who couldn't have graduated from Hogwarts yet and that his 'assistants' were considerably younger, maybe even first-years.

"Objection," Minister Fudge said. "The Witness for the Defense cannot be an underaged wizard with no qualifications, it's absurd."

"I second that objection," Umbridge said, "and request that the defense find another Witness, preferably one who has been trained in law."

"William Weasley is of age," Dumbledore said. "There are no legal restrictions on who can assist him. Nor is the Witness for the Defense required to be a professional lawyer. Unless the defendant wishes to name another Witness, I see no reason to delay the trial." He looked expectantly at Black.

Amelia could have told him to be more direct. She had spent enough time with people just out of Azkaban to recognize the glazed look on Black's face as that of someone who had fallen back into bad memoris. He probably hadn't heard a word anyone had said. To Amelia's surprise, Black did not need to be shaken awake by one of the aurors, instead realizing after a couple of seconds that he was supposed to say something. "I'm sorry," Black said. "I didn't catch that, could you please repeat it?"

"I asked if you would like a different Witness for your defense," Dumbledore said, without even the slightest hint of irritation.

"Is there something wrong with the Witness I've got?" Black asked.

"He's got no legal qualifications," Minister Fudge burst out.

Black blinked, staring up at the Minister as though he had no idea who was talking to him. He probably didn't, since Bagnold had been Minister when he had been imprisoned. "I know, he said so in the letter he wrote offering to defend me." Black turned and looked at his right arm. "I don't like this chair."

"So you don't want another Witness," Dumbledore said.

"No." Black looked around, as if he was suddenly aware that the Witness was somewhere in the room with him. "Which one is he? Which _ones_ are they? There was a we."

The oldest boy, William, stood up from his seat by the stands and walked towards Black. The other two followed him. "We're over here, Mr. Black," he said softly enough that Amelia could barely hear him.

"Oh," Black said. "You're looking very young, Fabian. Does that always happen when you die, because-" He blanched, pulling as far back from William as the chair would allow him. "You're not a ghost. Fabian, something very strange is going on. You were-"

"I'm not Fabian," William said. "I'm his nephew, Bill. And these-"

"You're not Bill," Black said. "I've met him. He'd be ten, I think. It depends. How long was I in Azkaban?"

"Eight years," William said. "Er, eight years and four months."

Black did not answer. His face glazed over again, not as badly as it had before, but if he kept thinking about all the time he had missed he might slip off again.

"Objection," Umbridge said. "I question the capability of the defense to pick his own legal council. Black is clearly deranged and-"

Amelia shook her head. Black was acting very much like many of the people newly released from long sentences, slightly bewildered and lacking in mind to mouth filter, but not actually insane. Not like most of the people in maximum security, who would raging right now.

"Permission to speak, Chief Warlock," William spoke over Umbridge's continued tirade.

"Granted," Dumbledore said. "Madam Umbridge, if you would be so kind as to allow the Witness for the Defense to speak."

Umbridge stopped talking. "Thank you," William said. "To my knowledge, there is no way to declare Mr. Black mentally unfit to chose his own Witness; however, he can be declared mentally incompetent to stand trial, in which case the court would be adjourned until such time as a qualified healer declared him fit for trial." William paused for a second, chewing on his lip, before continuing. "In fact, I submit that the defendant is not mentally fit to stand trial and ask the Wizengamot to prove otherwise."

Umbridge looked for a moment like she had been hit with a tongue swallowing hex. "I retract my objection," she said.

"Noted." Dumbledore turned towards the defendant. "Mr. Black, your Witness claims that you are not mentally capable of standing trial at this time. If you agree, then the trial will be adjourned until a qualified healer declares otherwise. Do you agree?"

"Say yes," one of the two assistants, Amelia couldn't tell them apart. "That means you get to spend a couple of months in St. Mungo's and find yourself someone who actually knows what they're doing to represent you in court."

"Yeah, we never would have offered to defend you if we knew that you would pick us over everyone else," the other assistant added.

"Assistants to the Witness for the Defense, I ask you to allow the defendant to decide for himself whether or not he's mentally fit," Dumbledore said. "If you don't, I may be forced to conclude that you have an ulterior motive for declaring Sirius Black mentally incompetent."

"Sorry," the assistants chorused.

"Mr. Black, your statement?"

Black paused, mumbling to himself. Even in the front row, ten feet from him, Amelia couldn't make out what he was saying. After almost a minute, Black looked up at Dumbledore and said loudly, "I'm perfectly fit to stand trial right now."

Amelia did not allow herself to feel more than a fleeting moment of disappointment. It was a lot easier on the Ministry, a lot easier on _her_ , if Black was tried immediately, but Black would probably benefit greatly from even the few hours it would take to have a healer examine him. He had really only spent twelve hours away from the dementors.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "In that case, I open the floor to the Interrogators for questioning."


	2. Arcturus Black

It made a twisted sort of sense. When he was six, Sirius had used his parents' list of forbidden activities as a list of things to do. When he was sixteen, Sirius had run away from home and announced that he hated his entire family. When he was nineteen, Sirius had refused to attend his own father's funeral.

Of course, when he was thirty and being tried for mass murder, Sirius would refuse to answer a letter from from his exorbitantly wealthy and extremely well-connected grandfather and instead choose as his official representatives in court a trio of children who had specially stated that they had no legal knowledge.

No, that was no legal qualifications. A very fine distinction, Arcturus knew, but a distinction nevertheless. The children had had the sense to push for a delay so that Sirius could clean himself up a bit. Of course, because it was Sirius making the final call, he had refused to take the delay.

Arcturus was so worked up about it that he almost missed Director Bones beginning the questioning. "Mr. Black, you deny any foreknowledge of the attack on James and Lily Potter?"

Sirius nodded.

One of the identical assistants, Arcturus was almost sure that it was the one who had urged Sirius to claim mental incompetence, whispered something to Sirius, who said, "I had no foreknowledge of the attack."

"Objection," Undersecretary Umbridge said. "Leading the witness." That was a mistake. No doubt Minister Fudge wanted to make himself look good for the first big event of his tenure, but appointing an interrogator with little experience in law was a terrible idea.

Now that Arcturus thought about it, Fudge had been in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, so he might not have the strongest grip on how exactly this was supposed to work either.

Chief Warlock Dumbledore gave a look of mild disappointment to the interrogator's seats. "Usually, the term 'leading the witness' is used to refer to questions asked by the interrogators. Although-" He turned a bit to look at Sirius and the boys. "-coaching the defendant through questioning is generally frowned upon."

"Understood," the Witness for the Defense proper said. He turned to his brothers, and in a sort of stage whisper loud enough for the entire courtroom to hear him said, "The next time you want to point something out to him, say it loudly enough for everyone else to hear. It's less suspicious."

"Got it." Oddly enough, it was the boy who hadn't whispered advice to Sirius who answered.

"Moving on then," Director Bones said. "We have sworn witness statements from no fewer than five people that Lily Potter performed the Fidelias Charm on her residence, the place where she and her husband were murdered, and that you were the Secret Keeper. Do you deny this?"

Sirius blinked, looking rather confused. For a moment Arcturus was afraid he was going to drift off again, but it seemed that he only needed a few seconds to work out his answer in his head before he spoke. "Lily Potter performed the Fidelias Charm, yes, but I wasn't the Secret Keeper."

"Hem, hem." Undersecretary Umbridge leaned a little farther over the edge of the parapet. "One of those statements is from Albus Dumbledore who is, among other things, the Chief Warlock supervising this trial. Are you suggesting that he lied?"

It was a very good move and Arcturus braced himself for the response he was almost certain Sirius would give.

"No," Sirius said. He looked absolutely horrified by the idea. He began to say something else, but Arcturus couldn't make it out over Umbridge. There had to be some kind of spell on the Interrogators seats, that was the only way the voice of a small woman speaking in normal tones could overpower the sound of a large man screaming.

Arcturus gave himself a few seconds to file away the idea for later consideration before he forced his mind back to what Umbridge was saying. "So you weren't the Secret Keeper, but Dumbledore wasn't lying when he said you were? That might make sense to deranged murderers, but-"

"Are the Interrogators allowed to presume guilt?" one of the assistants asked. It was the one who had last spoken, who Arcturus was starting to think of as the commentator in contrast to his brother the adviser.

Undersecretary Umbridge stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, and even Dumbledore looked a bit taken aback by the question. In the moment of confusion, Arcturus noticed the Witness cast a quick spell at his brother's back, probably a counterspell to whatever spell had let the commentator speak over Umbridge.

"The Interrogators are charged with gathering evidence, both for an against the defendant, and presenting it to the assembled Wizengamot," Dumbledore said. Arcturus could only wonder what he was playing at, because that was a cop out if he had ever heard one and Dumbledore had gone out of his way to play along with the Witness for the Defense.

Perhaps that was it. Dumbledore wanted to make sure that he wasn't playing sides, wanted to appear impartial, so he was settling for letting Undersecretary Umbridge look bad rather than reprimanding her for unprofessional behavior.

"I believe we have gotten off topic," Director Bones said. She shot a glare at Undersecretary Umbridge that Arcturus was willing to bet half the court missed. "Mr. Black, do you have any explanation for why half a dozen upstanding citizens would believe you to be the Potter's Secret Keeper."

Sirius smiled, a sheepish sort of smile that Arcturus had seen frequently on Orion's face. It was generally accompanied by a transparent excuse and an attempt to shift blame onto nearby persons. It was not at all the kind of expression that made someone look good to the Wizengamot. "Because I told them so," Sirius said. "It was- It was my fault. All my fault. I-" Sirius broke off into incoherent mumbling.

The Interrogators all turned and looked at each other, like they weren't quite certain how to respond. To Arcturus's surprise, Minister Fudge was the one who spoke first. "Mr. Black, who was the Potter's Secret Keeper?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

There was a moment of shocked silence from the audience, before the room filled up with frenetic whispering. Two rows ahead of Arcturus, he could see Rita Skeeter's quill triple in speed.

"Mr. Pettigrew is one of the people who named you as the Potter's secret keeper," Director Bones said.

Sirius frowned, apparently confused. Arcturus couldn't blame him as he wasn't entirely sure what Director Bones was trying to get at. "Of course he did. It wouldn't have worked if people had known he was the Secret Keeper."

"So you were in cahoots with Peter Pettigrew," Undersecretary Umbridge said. Director Bones glared at her, but Umbridge didn't seem to notice. "What was the point of faking his death?"

"Faking his death?" Sirius had a strange look on his face, a sort of cross between fury and horror. "Pettigrew's dead. He blew himself up."

"Blew himself up?" Minister Fudge repeated. "You turned him into a rat."

Director Bones cleared her throat. "Perhaps it would be best if we asked Mr. Black for his account of the events that took place on October 31 and November 1, 1981. Mr. Black?"

Sirius blinked, and turned to the Witness for the Defense. "They think I turned him into a rat," he said in what might have been intended to be a whisper. "He was already a rat."

"Right," Witness Weasley said in a clear voice that carried over the entire courtroom. "Madam Bones wants to know what happened the night the Potters died."

"They want to know what the rat-"

Sirius was cut off by the commentator. "No, I think they want to know what you did."

"But if the rat figures into it at all, you can talk about him," he adviser added. The pair of them were taking this entire 'rat' business in stride, and Arcturus couldn't help but wonder why they had decided to take this case. What did they know that everyone else didn't?

"Right." Sirius gazed off into space for a few seconds before starting to talk. "I went to check on him and he wasn't there. He wasn't- It was all quiet, all peaceful, no Dark Mark to show an attack, but Pe- _Pettigrew_ was gone.

"So I went to see James, to make sure, and... and-" Sirius was making a funny sort of sound that Arcturus really hoped was crying. Laughing, even laughing hysterically, when talking about finding friends dead was the kind of thing that looked terrible. "There was coming out of the house... Harry."

Sirius's face lit up in the goofiest grin that Arcturus had even seen on anybody, including Melanie when Lucretia had been born. "Harry's alive," Sirius announced as if it were a remarkable turn of events rather than something everyone already knew.

"Did you think he was dead?" the commentator asked.

"Mr. Weasley," Chief Warlock Dumbledore said reproachfully.

"Sorry, Professor," the adviser said at the same time the commentator said, "But it's totally relevant. If he thought Harry was dead and-"

"I didn't think he was dead," Sirius interrupted. "I just forgot he existed for a while. Does that make sense?" He turned to his witnesses, obviously expecting an answer.

"Not really," the commentator said after a couple of seconds thought, but it made a frightening amount of sense to Arcturus. Dementors sucked away a person's happy memories, leaving them with only the worst experiences of their life. If Sirius had only happy memories of his godson, and really what unhappy memories was he going to have of a friend's baby, then Azkaban would take them. If Sirius really thought about it he might notice a baby-shaped hole in the night James and Lily Potter died, but it was rather obvious that he hadn't done much thinking in the past several years.

"What happened when you reached the house, Mr. Black?" Witness Weasley asked.

"I met Hagrid," Sirius continued. "He'd taken Harry from the house. I told him that I was Harry's godfather and asked him to give me Harry. He refused, reminded me that if anything happened to his parents Harry was supposed to go and live with Lily's sister."

"Harry Potter was sent to live with Muggles?" Minister Fudge said, probably more loudly than he intended. Either that or whatever spell was on the Interrogators broadcast a whisper over the entire courtroom.

"Objection," Witness Weasley said. "Relevance."

"Sustained," Dumbledore said. "Please continue."

"I gave Hagrid my motorbike," Sirius said. "It would be safer than walking, and I didn't know if Harry would still be a target. Then I went after the rat- Peter Pettigrew, I mean. I caught up with him the next afternoon in... I'm not sure where. Someplace with lots of muggles. I went up to Peter, I told him he was going to pay for what he had done. Then he shouted 'Lily and James Sirius, how could you' and the entire street turned to watch. I went for my wand, he went for his."

"So you confess to breaking the International Statute of Secrecy," Undersecretary Umbridge shouted. She had a look of triumph on her face, as though Sirius admitting to have drawn a wand on Pettigrew decided the case.

Sirius opened his mouth, thought better of whatever he had planned to say, and shut it again. Or perhaps he had forgotten what he was going to say, that fit in more with what Arcturus had seen of Sirius.

"Madam Umbridge, I don't think that drawing you wand constitutes a breach of the International Statute of Secrecy," Witness Weasley said. "If I remember correctly, you have to actually perform a spell."

"More than that, whatever spell you perform has to be noticed by a muggle and require Ministry intervention," Director Bones added.

Umbridge fixed her with a glare that could have curdled milk.

If it hadn't been for the flick of her head, Arcturus wouldn't have known that Director Bones had even noticed Umbridge's displeasure. "That's assuming that neither the wizard or witch performing the spell nor the muggle witnessing it are in immediate danger. And that the muggle in question isn't a family member or government official entitled to know about the magical world. So you and Pettigrew both drew wands."

"Yes," Sirius said. "Pettigrew got off the first shot, but he blew it. I think he wanted to hit me with a blasting curse, but he forgot to aim or something. Took out most of the street. I only just got a shield charm up in time."

"And you thought that was funny, did you?" Minister Fudge asked. "You were laughing up a storm when the DMAC showed up to clean up."

"A little bit," Sirius admitted. "Then I realized that Peter had got a whole bunch of muggles as well as himself and it wasn't funny anymore but I couldn't stop laughing." There was a note of hysteria to his voice, as though he might start laughing again. "It was like when James slipped a laughing potion into my soup at dinner one night. I-"

"That's enough," Director Bones said. "Do you have any other witnesses or evidences that could collaborate this story?"

"No," Witness Weasley said, "but you mentioned Peter Pettigrew as providing a witness statement. Permission to cross-examine him."

Sirius looked as surprised as everyone else in the room. "But he blew himself up. He's _dead_."

Witness Weasley shook his head. "He got away. Spent the past eight years living as my brother Percy's pet rat. We were going to tell you all this before the trial, but all our requests for a meeting with you were denied." He shot an accusatory look at the assembled Wizengamot, some of whom appeared rather embarrassed.

Minister Fudge cleared his throat. "That was- Your brothers are both underage. I mean-" He took a deep breath. "Permission granted. Bring in Peter Pettigrew."


	3. Barty Crouch, Sr

When Cornelius Fudge had been put forward as a candidate for Minister of Magic, Barty had been dumbfounded. Fudge– the portly man in charge of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, rather pompous, not too bright– as _Minister of Magic_.

In this new era of peace, Fudge might be able to do the job, but Barty had still predicted at least one narrowly averted disaster in Fudge's first year in office. Now that he was watching one disaster playing out in front of him not a full month after Fudge had been sworn in, Barty was completely convinced that Fudge was going to run this country into the ground.

There was nothing else to be expected from someone who was stupid enough, not only to allow this farce of a trial to take place, but was actually losing it to a trio of children still in Hogwarts. If Barty had been Minister of Magic...

But Barty had been passed over in favor of the idiot who not only had decided to reopen a case that had been closed for nearly a decade and stuck his nose in as one of the Interrogators, but had appointed as a second Interrogator his Undersecretary, a woman who clearly had no idea how a criminal trial was supposed to work.

The only competent person on the panel was Amelia Bones. She was far too soft for Barty's taste, never willing to do all that was necessary to put Death Eaters out of commission, but she did know what she was doing. If Barty had been in charge he might have made her one of the Interrogators. Witnesses were more cooperative if they thought one of the people asking them questions was really on their side.

Poor little Peter Pettigrew definitely looked like he needed someone on his side. Even ignoring the baleful looks the 'Witness for the Defense' and his two 'assistants' were giving him, along with the downright _murderous_ expression on Black, he was being dragged in front of the entire Wizengamot to have his testimony called into question. It was downright criminal subjecting a man to that kind of treatment right after he'd spent eight years trapped in the body of a rat.

Trapped in the mind of a rat too, for people who were transformed into animals lost all knowledge of the person they had been before until they were transformed back by someone else. If they were lucky, they would have no memory of their time spent as an animal. If they weren't... well, Barty had only ever one case like that in his entire career and as far as he knew the wizard involved was still in one of St. Mungo's long term wards.

"Mr. Pettigrew," the eldest boy said, in a tone that could have frozen the Black Lake solid. "Would you please relate to us the events of November 1, 1981 for the benefit of those on the Wizengamot who may not have read your statement."

Pettigrew licked his lips nervously, looking up at the Interrogators seats as though he hoped that they would call off this whole affair.

"Mr. Weasley has been granted permission to cross-examine you," Bones said. "I suggest that you treat his questions as though we had asked them."

Pettigrew gulped. His nose twitched, reminding Barty forcibly of the pet rat he had bought his son when he started Hogwarts. Perhaps whoever had transfigured Pettigrew back into a human hadn't done it properly.

"I- I went into town that morning, to buy milk-"

"Liar!" Black shouted. "I'd chased you halfway across Britain before I caught you."

"Mr. Black!" For the first time that day, the Weasley boy actually looked irritated with his client. Barty wondered how much he had been paid to defend the man. The Blacks were probably the wealthiest family in Britain, but then the Weasleys were poor enough that even a moderate sum might have been able to convince them to involve themselves in this mess.

But not enough to persuade any of the adults to help. How desperate could whichever of the old geezers were still hanging around be if they would solicit children to do their legal work for them? Although, they wouldn't have done Turncoat Black any favors by serving as Witness for the Defense themselves. Everyone knew that the Blacks, with the supposed exception of Sirius the Auror, supported You-Know-Who.

"Please allow Mr. Pettigrew to give his testimony without interruptions," the Weasley boy continued. "Mr. Pettigrew, please keep going."

Pettigrew's nose twitched. "I-I wasn't doing anything wrong. He _attacked_ me, shouting that he was going to kill me like he had killed-" Pettigrew was sniffing loudly, obviously on the verge of bursting into tears. "-like he had killed Lily and James. I went for my wand, but he drew his first and shot off a spell that I didn't recognize. I don't remember anything after that."

"This spell Mr. Black cast, do you remember what it hit?"

Pettigrew mumbled something unintelligible.

"Could you please repeat that?"

"Me." Pettigrew took a deep breath and added, much more loudly, "He hit me with a spell. It must have been the one that turned me into a rat." Black had probably wanted to neutralize Pettigrew's ability to fight back, only to have it backfire when he tried to hit the rat with another curse and missed.

There was a hint of a smile on Weasley's face, as though he had just maneuvered Pettigrew into a corner. "Do you have any idea what happened to the index finger of your right hand?"

"No."

"So it wasn't cut off before you turned into a rat?" one of the identical brats asked.

"I didn't turn myself into a rat. _HE_ turned-"

" _LIAR!_ All that time we spent helping you study for it, and-"

"Mr. Black, if you are incapable of keeping your mouth shut while I question Mr. Pettigrew then I will cast a silencing charm on you." It was a shame that Weasley had spent had cut Black off. Barty had enough experience to know when a suspect was about to say something self-incriminating.

"So you have no explanation for how your finger, and the Ministry was very sure that it was your finger and not one of the muggles' who died, ended up in the middle of the crime scene."

Pettigrew was visibly shaking. "No explanation," he squeaked.

"Another question," Weasley said. "Do you remember the exact contents of the conversation between yourself and Mr. Black?" Now that was cheap. They had nearly a dozen muggles who had witness the entire attack on Peter Pettigrew, so the only reason to ask such a question was to try and trip Pettigrew up.

"No-not really." Pettigrew looked up at the Interrogators, with a pitiful expression that begged them to put an end to his torment.

"Is there a point behind this line of questioning?" Bones asked. She was being overly kind, Barty thought, most likely because she felt some kind of twisted sympathy for a boy in over his head. _He_ would have called them out for badgering a witness, especially one who had gone through as much as Peter Pettigrew.

"Of course there is, Madam Bones." The Weasley boy had the audacity to smile at her, as though he was being asked a perfectly innocuous question that he had a reasonable response to. "I'm trying to establish what happened on November 1, 1981."

Umbridge tittered. It was the kind of noise that ought to come out of a teenage girl rather than the Senior Undersecretary to the Ministry and it turned Barty's stomach. He looked around, but no one near him looked remotely bothered by it. Or course, these people had thought that _Fudge_ would make a good Minister of Magic, so they couldn't have too much in the way of brains. "Excuse me," Umbridge said. "But I thought that we already listened to Mr. Black's... rendering of events."

"We did." Barty couldn't see it very well from this angle, but he thought that one of the firsties might have rolled his eyes. "I thought that it might be beneficial for the Wizengamot to be able to compare testimonies."

"Each member of the Wizengamot was provided with a copy of all witness statements concerning this case when they entered this courtroom," Madam Bones said. "As were you. Unless you plan to question Mr. Pettigrew on something _not_ covered in his statement, I suggest you move on to the next point of business."

The Weasley boys exchanged a look that suggested they wanted to form up into a Quiddich huddle and hammer out a new strategy, but they didn't call for a recess. A small, grudging part of Barty admired their courage. The rest of him thought they were being reckless idiots. Sure, it was unlikely that they would be granted a recess when court hadn't yet been in session for an hour, but if they really didn't know what to do next...

"I would like to point out some discrepancies between Peter Pettigrew's testimony and the statements of the muggles at the scene of the crime," Weasley said, after only the barest pause. "Firstly, the claim that Mr. Black was shouting that he was going to kill Pettigrew-"

Pettigrew shifted in his seat, sliding further towards the front almost as though preparing to make a run for it.

"-can't possibly be true. The witness statements from the muggles all match up very well. A few of them mentions seeing two men, one tall and dark-haired, the other short and blond, talking to each other. Then– and they all remembered this– the short man shouted, 'Lily and James, Sirius. How could you?' and began to back away. The tall man pulled a stick out of his pocket and then the street blew up, right where the short man had been standing."

"Black couldn't possibly have been shouting, the muggles would have mentioned it," Bones said. There was an edge to her voice that Barty had very seldom heard. It always seemed to bode ill for someone, though not always the someone who Bones had spoken to. "That doesn't prove anything, Mr. Weasley."

"He m-might not have shouted," Pettigrew said. The poor man looked downright terrified. "He frightened me. I might have imagined him louder in my memory."

"Exactly," Bones said. "Anything else, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes," Weasley said. "According to the muggles, Mr. Black didn't cast any spells."

"They're muggles," Minister Fudge said. "How would they know if anyone had cast spells or not?"

"They might have mentioned an incantation," Weasley said. "Or a jet of light. Mr. Pettigrew mentioned both." No, he hadn't, and if Barty had been on the Interrogator's stand like he should have been he would have called Weasley out on it. Pettigrew had said that Black hit him with a spell that he didn't recognize, and some spells could be both nonverbal and lacking in any outward light display.

There weren't many that Barty could think of, and none of them had such an instantaneous and distant effect as turning a nearby person into a rat, but it could almost certainly be done.

"More than that, they don't mention Pettigrew being turned into a rat, which I'm sure that even a muggle would have thought worth mentioning."

"Mr. Black has been accused of attempting to murder Mr. Pettigrew, not of turning him into a rat," Dumbledore said. Both the Interrogators and the Weasleys turned to stare at him as though they hadn't known he was the Chief Warlock. "Something to keep in mind."

That must have meant something more to the Weasley boys than it did to Barty, because the two smaller ones started whispering to one another, while the oldest one looked rather concerned. Barty snorted. It was probably only Dumbledore's years as a teacher making him look out for a couple of students, but the Chief Warlock was supposed to be impartial. That meant no giving the defense hints.

"Does the Defense rest?" Fudge asked, after the Weasleys had gone nearly a full minute without addressing either the Wizengamot or Pettigrew.

"No," the two younger ones said in unison. Then one of them added, "When Mr. Pettigrew was taken into custody, did he have his wand on him?"

"Mr. Pettgrew had no fewer than four wands on him when he was processed," Bones said. "We're not sure which he usually used. Mr. Ollivander is currently out of the country and unable to examine them."

"And there's nobody else who could do it?" the other young one asked.

"There's that guy we had to check our wands with when we came in," the other added. "Couldn't he tell you about the wands?"

"He can tell us what they were made of, and how long they were in use, but Mr. Ollivander is the most likely to know who they were originally sold to," Bones said. "In any case, it is quite unlikely that Mr. Pettigrew was capable of using all of them."

"But he was definitely using one of them," the oldest Weasley said. "Mr. Pettigrew, would you be so kind as to tell us which one of the wands was yours."

"I'm not sure," Pettigrew said. "I don't remember what my wand was like. He must have modified my memory and planted them on me. He probably wanted to get rid of them" That might be true, but Barty found it suspicious. Handing someone a bunch of wands and then turning them into a rat was not a very efficient way to hide evidence. Of course, everyone knew that the Blacks had a crazy streak and Sirius Black hadn't been acting very sane when he was taken in, so maybe efficiency was too much to expect from Black.

"It was short," Black said. "Maybe nine or ten inches long. Made of a pale wood." He paused, frowning to himself. "Well, not really pale. Oak or pine or something kind of that color. I never paid that much attention in Herbology."

"I don't recall anyone asking you to identify Mr. Pettigrew's wand," Umbridge said, and for once Barty thought she was right to say something.

Black grimaced and muttered something to himself that Barty couldn't quite hear.

Umbridge's mouth twisted into a little self-satisfied smirk. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"It's not important," the oldest Weasley said. "Look, Pettigrew was twenty-one in 1981. So he would have bought his wand before he left for school in 1971 and it would have been in use for ten years. That should make it relatively easy for you to figure out which was his."

"You would think so," Bones said, "but three of the wands on him were in use for ten years. We don't have any way to tell which one was his."

The firsties shared a look, then turned to Dumbledore. "Can we call all the wands as evidence?"

Barty would have said no. Barty would have told them to stop wasting time and let the Wizengamot have their vote. But Barty wasn't running this trial. "You may," Dumbledore said.

"Objection," said Umbridge, making Barty wince. She ought to have ignored Dumbledore's statement, he was the one they were supposed to ask questions about procedure to and that was what the Weasleys had done, and waited for the boys to actually motion for the wands to be considered evidence. _Then_ she could have used her status as Interrogator to overrule them. "I seem to recall Sirius Black, not Peter Pettigrew, being the one on trial here. The contents of Mr. Pettigrew's pockets can have no relevance whatsoever."

"According to his own testimony, Peter Pettigrew may not be a reliable witness," Bones said. "Take into account that he claims Black planted these wands on him and they start to seem like something worth investigating. I submit that the wands found on Peter Pettigrew be brought in as evidence." Barty grimaced, before steeling his face into a mask of calm. If one of the Interrogators _wanted_ to waste time on this, then they were all stuck sitting through it.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "The court will have a twenty minute recess so that the wands can be retrieved."


	4. Rita Skeeter

Rita Skeeter was glad of the break. It gave her time to sketch out both of the articles she was writing. It wasn't strictly speaking necessary to do so, since in an hour or so one of the articles would be sitting in the wastebasket never to see the light of day, but Rita _liked_ her job and rather enjoyed practicing her skills by preparing to write whatever article the _Prophet_ needed.

A conviction was the more likely outcome, in which case, following the miraculous reappearance of Peter Pettigrew, the Wizengamot had been bothered by calls for a trial for the Death Eater Sirius Black and risen admirably to the occasion. The poor deluded Weasley boys, all of whom could definitely use a visit to St. Mungo's, had been persuaded to act as Witness for the Defense. Needless to say they had failed miserably.

Alternatively, after discovering Peter Pettigrew living in hiding near Hogwarts, the noble Weasley brothers had been horrified to learn that Sirius Black was currently imprisoned on charges of murdering the aforementioned Pettigrew and turned him in to the Ministry. When no one was willing to represent Black in court, the Weasleys stepped forward and did such a marvelous job that Black was acquitted.

The part of Rita that occasionally had difficulty maintaining her journalistic professionalism very much wanted to write the second story. It was so much more _interesting_. After all 'Convicted Murderer Really is Guilty' wasn't much of a headline. If it came to that, Rita would have to play up the Weasley angle. Perhaps suggest that they had been hoodwinked by Death Eaters looking to have their second in command let loose from prison.

Actually, that didn't sound like too bad of an article. 'Confirmed Death Eater Activity, Hogwarts Students Compromised'. Now _that_ headline would sell. It might even sell well enough to prompt an investigation into how the Weasleys got involved in this, thus generating several more highly sellable articles.

Rita didn't have too long to think about which option would be better, conviction or acquittal, before she was interrupted by Dumbledore reconvening the court and announcing the arrival of one Xavier Gibson who was responsible for 'introducing' the wands.

"Now this wand," he held up the first, "can't have been originally been sold to Peter Pettigrew. It was in use for forty-three years, not including the eight years spent as a rat. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew wood and phoenix feather core. _Prior Incantato._ "

A smoky figure burst from the end of the wand. Even from where she was sitting Rita couldn't make out much about it, but it had the large head and stumpy limbs of a small child.

" _Deletrius_ ," Gibson said. "The last spell this wand cast was the Killing Curse."

Which might have surprised everyone else, but Rita had already figured that if someone was hiding wands on Pettigrew to get rid of evidence the wands had probably cast some nasty spells. Although, it would have been easier to simply cast an innocuous spell to cover-up the illegal one.

"What about the others?" Fudge asked, sounding a bit nervous. It Black was convicted, Rita would play that up in her article. A moment where the Minister is worried that the Wizengamot will be swayed by evidence planted by Death Eaters. Wonderfully dramatic.

Gibson held up another wand, but before he could say anything Black shouted, "That's James's wand! You _stole_ James's wand, you traitorous– " Black broke off, apparently incapable of coming up with a strong enough insult to describe Pettigrew. Rita took the liberty of noting down a couple possibilities. She probably wouldn't use either of them in her article, but a little preparedness had never hurt anyone.

"Mr. Black," Gibson said, in a tone that might have been intended to be placating but came out more like Gibson was trying very hard not to shout something that would get him thrown out of court. "I am attempting to-"

"Half a moment," one of the Weasley twins said. Gibson shot him a filthy look but he ignored it, instead turning to Black. "You're absolutely sure that's James Potter's wand?"

"Of course it's James's wand," Black said. "It's got that cobwebby design on the handle." There was a hint of defensiveness to his tone, and Rita was sure that, if someone had pressed him on the issue he would have admitted that it had been a very long time since he had seen James's wand and he didn't really remember things from before Azkaban that well anyway.

But of course the Weasley didn't press him. "So, how did Pettigrew get his hands on James Potter's wand without having any idea that James had been killed?"

"He could have borrowed the wand before the attack," the other twin said, before anyone else had the chance to tell them off for speculating.

"Do you really think that happened?"

"It doesn't sound terribly likely, but–"

"Messrs. Weasley and Weasley," Dumbledore said, in an annoyingly obsolete tone. "It is not the job of the Witness for the Defense, or either of his assistants, to engage in speculation about what actually happened."

"But it doesn't fit," the first twin said. "The only way I can figure it is if Pettigrew went around to the Potter's house _after_ they were killed and nicked all the wands he could find. That would explain why the yew wand had last performed the killing curse on a little boy."

"It is expected that you trust the Wizengamot to decide for themselves what they think fits and is likely to have happened." Dumbledore sounded a bit disappointed, like he expected the little Weasley to have figured this out on his own, but if he had really wanted to keep the kid from speculating he would have cut him off. 'Dumbledore, Supposed Bastion of the Light, Aides and Abets Convicted Death Eater'. A lovely little tidbit, if Black was convicted.

"Moving on to the other wands," Gibson said loudly. He was several feet away from where he had been when the Weasleys had sidetracked the conversation, now standing behind Black, presumably so that the latter could not see the new wand he was holding up. "This one is ten and a quarter inches long, made from willow and dragon heartstring."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gibson," Bones interrupted before he could get any further. Why hadn't she done so earlier, when the Weasley was going on about his theories? For that matter, why hadn't Umbridge, who had so often butted in without any thought earlier in the proceedings, complained about that? Another line of inquiry for Rita's article.

"I'm sorry, Madam Bones, I was distracted by the interruption." Gibson shot a dark look at Black and the Weasleys. "I'll return to that wand when I've finished with this one. _Prior Incantato_."

This time there was no smoky echo of the last spell cast. Rita supposed that meant that the spell had no visible effect and the Wizengamot would have to rely on Gibson to correctly identify it from... Rita wasn't sure how exactly the spell worked. She made a mental note to look it up later, to see how fallible it was.

"This wand last cast a dusting charm," Gibson said. "I'm not sure what on, but I don't think that's relevant to the present case. Now to the wand that Black claims belonged to James Potter: eleven inches long, made of–" "

"Mahogany and phoenix feather," Black shouted. He smiled at the Interrogators, as though he had done something more than create another disturbance. "I know because James told me once. We were talking about the different wand cores and how–"

"Mr. Weasley, didn't you say that you silence Black if he kept interrupting," Umbridge said. Rita couldn't see Umbridge's face from where she was sitting, but she would have bet her Quick Quotes Quill that there was a fake smile plastered over it. And not a trying to be friendly smile either, but one of the ones that belonged on a cat that had just trapped a very succulent looking mouse under its paws.

"No, he said he'd silence him if he got in the way of questioning Pettigrew," one of the twins said. His face was covered in the self-satisfied smirk of someone who knew they had found a loophole.

"I still think it very unprofessional to allow your client to interrupt a witness giving testimony," Umbridge continued. "I'm sure that there's some rule against it. After all, such carrying on is hardly suitable for classroom at Hogwarts, much less a court of law."

"We could charge him with contempt of court," Bones said. "Of course those charges can't be resolved by the judicial body that brought them up, so if Black were to be convicted we would have to delay returning him to Azkaban in order to settle them."

Umbridge scowled.

"The idea doesn't appeal much to me either," Bones said. "Mr. Gibson, if you would be so kind as to tell us what the wand you're holding is made of."

"Mahogany and phoenix feather," Gibson said. He gritted his teeth. "Like Mr. Black said, although I feel obligated to point out that many people have mahogany and phoenix feather wands, so Mr. Black's statement should in no way be taken as conclusive proof that this wand belonged to James Potter."

For the first time that evening, Rita noticed that Peter Pettigrew looked terrified, not of Sirius Black or or the entire crowd of people, but of Gibson in particular. Whether or not Black was convicted, Rita was going to have to have a talk with Ollivander and see if any of the wands he had sold matched the description of the wands found in Peter Pettigrew's pocket.

"But it is very compelling evidence, isn't it?" Fudge asked. "Mahogany's a tropical wood, so most temperate wandmakers don't even work with it at all. Ollivander probably would, but even he wouldn't have more than a handful of mahogany wands in stock at a time." Even Albus Dumbledore, who was usually good at pretending to have expected strange occurrences, looked rather surprised by the Minister's statement. "I wanted to be a wandmaker when I was eleven," Fudge continued, when he realized that the entire court was waiting for him to explain himself. "I remember a few things from then. Anyone who passed their Herbology N.E.W.T. would know the same."

Among the Wizengamot and on the stands, several people nodded in agreement.

"Hem, hem." The focus of the room shifted from Fudge to Umbridge. "With all due respect, Minister, Black is hardly a reliable witness. Even if he had no incentive to lie, he's spent the last eight years in Azkaban and that's bound to have affected his memory. We don't have anyone else's word on what James Potter's wand was made of."

"It's still a very lucky guess," Fudge said. He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and with the air of someone about to plow through a very unpleasant task said, "Madam Umbridge, the only way Black would know the composition of that wand in order to lie about it belonging to James Potter would be if he had planted the wand on Pettigrew himself and he can't have! I was there! I took statements from the witnesses, and none of them mentioned anything more than a couple of men fighting, sticks being pulled out, and then an explosion! There was no sticking wands on someone, or turning him into a rat or anything like that!"

"Exactly what I've been saying all along," one of the Weasley twins said. From the angle of his body, it seemed like he was talking more to his twin than to everyone else, but the entire room still heard him. "Well, not the bit about the wands, because we just found out about that, but–"

"Mr. Weasley, I have already asked you to refrain from speculating," Dumbledore said. Rita supposed she could fault him for not cutting off Minister when _he_ had started speculating, but Fudge was an Interrogator and she was not sure that _she_ would have dared interrupt the Minister of Magic if she had been the one calling the shots.

Now Fudge's rant, that would be much easier to deal with if Black was acquitted. 'Miscarriage of Justice Rectified by Minister of Magic' made for a lovely headline and all there was to do was tweak the words a bit so as to make the Minister as elegant as possible without tipping off anyone who had been to the trial and heard what the Minister had actually said.

If Black was convicted on the other hand, well 'New Minister of Magic Flubs First Big Crisis of his Career' was a possible headline, but Minister Fudge was unlikely to be pleased by it. Nominally, the _Prophet_ was an independent paper, but they could only make the government look so bad before they found themselves unable to sell papers anymore. Perhaps it would be better to play it off as Black's dark charisma influencing even the staunchest of hearts.

"Well, then," Gibson said. " _Prior Incantato._ " Thin grey streaks issued from the mahogany wand that might have belonged to James Potter. "This wand was last used to make sparks. If it belonged to James Potter then he didn't use it to defend himself from You-Know-Who."

"The DMLE's known that for years," someone seated behind Rita whispered to the person next to her. "There was no sign of any struggle, magical or otherwise. Half the house was blown out when the Killing Curse backfired, but there was no other damage. No other traces of spells, and _no wands_. That's why Director Bones hasn't pulled out the case file and proven that wand isn't James Potter's"

Rita was so busy making note of that as from a 'confidential informant in the Ministry' that she missed most of Gibson introducing the next wand, only remembering that the trial was still ongoing when a smoky finger came out of the last wand.

"This wand was last used to cast a severing charm used to take someone's finger off," Gibson said. "My evidence has been presented, so if you have no further questions..."

The three Interrogators shared a look. "No further questions, Mr. Gibson," Fudge said. "Unless the Witness for the Defense has any?"

"This severing charm," the oldest Weasley said, "cast by the wand matching Mr. Black's description of Peter Pettigrew's wand, could it have been what cut off Peter Pettigrew's right index finger?"

"Certainly," Gibson said. "There's no way to prove it was, but considering that it was found in the possession of Peter Pettigrew, I would consider it quite likely that–"

"I don't remember how I lost my finger," Pettigrew said. His voice was high and terrified and not at all convincing.

"You don't seem to remember a lot of things," the eldest Weasley said. For half a second, Rita thought that he was going to add something else, but instead he turned and addressed the Wizengamot. "The defense rests."

The Wizengamot burst into whispered conversation, debating the merits of Black's case. Bones was rather involved in the debate, with half a dozen people lobbing questions at her. Some of them seemed to direct questions at Fudge, but he did not answer any of them. A number of other people in the ranks, probably those who had been involved in the original investigation also found themselves surrounded by a knot of confused people. It was a shame that they were too far away for Rita to make out much of what they were saying.

The audience, meanwhile, was doing enough speculating of their own that Rita couldn't catch more than a few words of any one conversation. Oh well, one Ministry statement that she was not supposed to have was enough for a single article.

"Quiet," Dumbledore said, when the debate had died down among the Wizengamot. The audience was still going strong, although they quieted at Dumbledore's words. "Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Across the Wizengamot, about a dozen hands went up. After a couple of seconds, so did Fudge's. His decision appeared to be the deciding factor for those who weren't quite sure, and in another couple of seconds the vote had doubled. More than doubled – Rita had time to count twenty-nine people in favor of acquittal before Dumbledore said, "And those in favor of conviction?"

Almost all the remaining hands went up. Two members of the Wizengamot abstained from voting. "Cleared of all charges," Dumbbledore announced.

A loud thump came from behind Rita. She wheeled around and saw Barty Crouch Sr. lying across the floor. Apparently he had tried to stand up and fainted. A bit of a shame considering that he had been the prime candidate to replace the soon-to-be-retired Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Collapsing in public places, people were going to say that his health wasn't up to the job.

Although, if Rita remembered properly, Crouch had been the one to have Black imprisoned without a trial. There might be something worth looking into there, after Rita had finished writing tomorrow's headline. And what a headline it would be.

* * *

A/N: There is a follow up to this story, about Sirius coping with life outside of Azkaban. It is entitled _Coming Home_ and the first chapter has been posted.


End file.
